


hypnotized, so mesmerized

by abovetheruins



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/pseuds/abovetheruins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David has this <i>thing</i> for uh, facial hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hypnotized, so mesmerized

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silsbee329](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=silsbee329).



> I was prompted with ‘Archie has a thing for Cook's facial hair.’ Sorry if the ending seems kind of rushed!

David has this _thing_ for uh, facial hair.

Well, not like, facial hair as a whole, and not on himself or anything. He always makes sure to shave off the little bit of stubble he does get – he remembers studying his face in the mirror one morning before taking a razor to his chin and thinking how strange it looked on him. Cook swears it makes him look more mature and “worldly” or whatever, but David doesn’t think he can pull it off, not like Cook can.

Actually, it’s _Cook’s_ fault that David’s even in this predicament in the first place. If he wasn’t so… so… _Attractive_ , David’s brain supplies helpfully, then maybe David wouldn’t be so preoccupied with facial hair. Or, well, Cook’s facial hair. 

It doesn’t even make sense, not that David’s head or heart or _hormones_ seem to care. 

He’d tried to explain it to Cook once, after the older man had caught him, um, staring. It wasn’t so much the way it looked or anything, scruffy and the same shade of auburn as Cook’s hair, neatly trimmed when he had an interview or a concert and a little messy when he hadn’t shaved. Not that it didn’t look, um, appealing, because it did! Especially with the way it, um, sort of framed Cook’s mouth kind of perfectly? And the way it looked all soft and inviting and, um. Anyway, it suited Cook in a way David didn’t think it would ever suit himself. 

But it wasn’t the way it looked that got to David, though that was definitely a bonus. What drove David a little crazy – okay, a lot crazy – was the way it _felt_.

It all started the first time Cook kissed him, a little over a year after _Idol_. It had been a long time coming, months and months of dancing around each other and gushing about each other to anybody who would listen – David still felt a rush of embarrassment when he thought of how _obvious_ he must have seemed, Brooke and Carly and even his sisters had called him out on it before – and David had gotten sick of it, really. He was so tired of missing Cook and holding back all of the things he wanted to say just because he was scared and really, if _Idol_ had taught him anything it was that he could do whatever he set his mind to, no matter how difficult or terrifying or life-changing. He could do it.

So he’d asked Cook if they could meet up for dinner when they were both in LA, and afterwards he’d said, “There’s something I need to tell you,” all serious and straight-faced even though his heart was pounding a mile a minute, and when Cook had asked him if anything was wrong, his brows scrunched up with concern, David had told him everything, and his voice had only wavered once, when he’d said, “If you don’t, um, feel the same way it’s okay, I just needed to tell you, so – “ 

At first Cook had just stared at him, all silent and dumbfounded and wide-eyed, and David, already a mess of emotions too numerous to name – chief among which was fear because _oh gosh why wasn't Cook saying anything?_ – had been about to sink into the floor, his face red with embarrassment and disappointment coiling like a vice in his chest.

But then Cook had blinked (for like the first time since David had dropped his little bombshell) and then finally, _finally_ moved, crowding into David's personal space and pressing him up against the wall they'd been standing in front of, this really intense look on his face and David had sucked in a breath of cold air, trembling a little while Cook slid his palms along David’s cheeks and cupped his face in his huge, warm hands, and David couldn’t _think_ , not when Cook was moving closer, not when he was hoping so desperately, _please, please_ –

That first kiss had been soft, almost chaste, just a quick brush of Cook’s lips against his and Cook had pulled back almost immediately to look at him and ask, “Is this okay, Archie?” with this really serious expression on his face, and all David could do was nod shakily and curl his fingers over Cook’s shoulders so he could pull him back down.

The second kiss had been longer, and wetter, and David had felt lost in it, the feel of Cook’s lips against his, soft and slick, the wet pop of sound each time the kiss broke and reconnected, the sound of their harsh breaths as it went on. And, above all that, the feel of Cook’s stubble rasping against his chin and his lips, sending tingles of sensation shivering down David’s spine.

Even over four years later those sensations still gave him chills, the rasp and slight sting of Cook’s beard against his skin whenever they kissed. Not only against his lips and chin, but um, other places, too. 

Because Cook was such a dork, and liked to tackle David and rub their cheeks together until David squealed with laughter, or nuzzle into his neck when they snuggled together on the couch so his beard scratched against David’s skin, or he would hold David against his chest while they watched a movie and just plop his bristly chin on David’s head. 

And then there other moments, too, when they were in bed and Cook had him all, whatever, stretched out and um, exposed, with the older man settled snugly between his thighs and his lips at the base of David’s throat, and David would lie there shivering and panting as Cook’s mouth followed the curve of his shoulder and rubbed against his chest, down into the dip of his stomach and then the vee of his hips, his stubble leaving behind rough patches of skin marked red and tender. 

But what David really loved – and he’d been so embarrassed to tell Cook, oh gosh – was the way it felt when Cook would press wet, sucking kisses to his thighs, his stubble rasping against the sensitive skin there, the way it sent trails of fire racing down David’s legs and up his spine, heat pooling in his stomach and pulsing in his groin.

Cook definitely takes advantage of David’s, um, fixation. He knows that if he nuzzles his bristly chin into David’s neck the younger man can’t help but laugh, so he does it _all the time_ , especially if David is sad or upset or angry, which is sweet at times and frustrating at others because he can’t ever stay mad at Cook if the older man keeps _tickling_ him, gosh. 

Cook also knows that if he presses his lips against David’s collarbone or behind his ear or anywhere near his, um, well, David will completely fall apart, melting into the bed or against the wall or whatever Cook has him up against, and his body will go all hot and tight and shivery, especially when Cook opens his mouth and _sucks_ , his stubble scraping across David’s skin and even when it hurts a little David doesn’t even _care_ because it also feels way too good to stop.

(Sometimes Cook threatens all mock-seriously to shave it all off, just to see David’s, whatever, forlorn expression, and it’s kind of pathetic of him because it’s just _hair_ , but he can’t even help it and he knows Cook loves the effect it has on him anyway, so.)

So yeah, David has a thing for Cook’s facial hair, but it’s worked out pretty well for him so far.


End file.
